


Today and Yesterday

by nahco3



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nahco3/pseuds/nahco3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando is back in Madrid for the summer when he runs into Sergio. It's strange seeing him now, not at a call-up but on the streets of Madrid that he inhabits as easily as his own skin. Sergio smiles broadly at him, and Fernando smiles back, a little unsure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today and Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> written in 2009.

Fernando is back in Madrid for the summer when he runs into Sergio. It's strange seeing him now, not at a call-up but on the streets of Madrid that he inhabits as easily as his own skin. Sergio smiles broadly at him, and Fernando smiles back, a little unsure.

"We should go somewhere tonight," Sergio says. "I know a place."

Like old times, Fernando thinks, before he sneaks a look at Olalla.

"Go," she says, with a grin. "You deserve some fun."

Fernando goes.

(Fernando doesn't know many things but he knows himself - he is a Red, he is his mother’s son. He doesn’t like crowds. He likes to read. He isn’t very good with words. When he was little, he wanted to be a knight. When he was older, he wanted to be Raul. He sometimes throws up before games. He sometimes cries after them.

Sergio is the sun to his moon. Sergio is outspoken, messy, turbulent, overpaid, lonely, boisterous, funny, narcissistic, and [Fernando thinks] beautiful.)

He goes even though he knows what will happen and because of it. He goes because he is Fernando and Sergio is Sergio.  
They go out, and before too long they drift toward each other, and then toward the exit. Sergio drives them back to his house, laughing the whole way at something stupid Fernando did. Then they get in the door and Fernando kisses him. Sergio kisses back.

He wonders how they could have stopped doing this. He'd burned Sergio into his body and now each touch is pulling back those memories, too quickly but not fast enough and god, Sergio.

Fernando makes a little noise in his throat and Sergio pulls back, eyes full of concern.

"No," Fernando says. "Don't stop."

"You sure?" Sergio asks, resting his hands on Fernando's shoulders. "I know..."

"No." Fernando pushes himself forward, against Sergio. "Please Sergio."

Sergio smiles, looking as young as he is, and kisses Fernando again and again. Fernando knows he should feel guilty for doing this, to Olalla and to Sergio, but he can't, not yet, not with Sergio's hands on him.

Fernando wakes up the next morning next to Sergio. He looks over; Sergio is still asleep, his face soft. Fernando rolls out of bed as quickly as he can without waking Sergio (like he does when he wakes up in the middle of the night to take care of Nora and doesn't want to disturb Olalla, ohgodOlalla). He finds his clothes in a pile on the floor, and pulls on his underwear and jeans quickly. His shirt is wrinkled and smells dirty. He grabs a clean one of Sergio's from an open dresser drawer. It smells a little like Sergio. He isn't sure if he likes that or not.

He pads downstairs to the kitchen to make himself some coffee, hoping somehow that things will make more sense once he's properly awake. He still remembers where Sergio keeps his coffee, his mugs, which drawer his spoons are in. Fernando thinks suddenly that if one day he gets Alzheimer's, if he forgets his own name and how he played football and that he has a wife and daughter, he will still remember the smooth skin of Sergio's back, the jut of his hipbones, the sound of his laughter. It scares him, and he sips his coffee too quickly and burns his tongue.

He is sitting at the kitchen table and reading the newspaper when Sergio blearily makes his way downstairs. Fernando looks up and stares, despite himself. Sergio looks like he always does, slightly debauched and quite pleased with himself, but an echo of the vulnerability of sleep is still with him. Fernando's throat goes dry, and he turns back to his paper, guilt settling into his chest at last.


End file.
